


Future Imperfect

by interpret_who (Blizdal)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, power abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizdal/pseuds/interpret_who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragon roars in denial as the future he used to see fell apart. / Sometimes, there are worse things than villains and some bridges are never rebuilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of the story is set not long after Season 4. Merlin's magic is not a secret.

**Prologue**

**  
**

_All of Albion is united under King Arthur’s rule._

_Merlin is known as the mightiest sorcerer of all times._

_Yet..._

The dragon roars in denial as the future he used to see fell apart.

He always thought that Arthur was the one who would need guidance the most. He never even considered that it would be _Merlin_ who strayed from their path.

Before his inner eye, the futures shifted and not a single path led to the Albion he dreamed of.

Not anymore.

 

**1.**

**  
**

“You took my mind, my will, because you disagreed with what I was going to do.”  
“You would have died.”  
“It wasn’t your decision to make.”  
“You would have _died_.”  
“...Maybe you should have let me.”  
Merlin doesn’t flinch and doesn’t look away. He doesn’t regret. Arthur waits for at least a _sorry_ but he doesn’t get it.  
“No.” Merlin says “I will not let you die.” He sounds definite and it makes the blood in Arthur’s veins turn to ice.

*

“So, you released the sword from the stone, so that the people and Arthur would think he is worthy? You decide who is worthy now?” Gwaine asks jokingly, his lip curling up crookedly.

His eyes are serious.

“I know him best.” Merlin says with an unsettled smile.  
“You certainly seem to think so.”  
“You don’t agree?”  
“You met him few years ago.”  
“We went through a lot together.”  
“There are others who can say the same.”

Merlin shrugs, smiling slightly as if to say _not the same_.

“You are awfully possessive, Merlin.”  
“I am not!”  
“He is the King to all of us; no less to us than he is to you.

*

Arthur wishes that he could banish Merlin. But Camelot is being attacked all the time by magic users and he knows that Merlin is the only one who can defend it.

*

Gwen tells Arthur that he looks unhappy.

_unhappier every day_

She hugs her middle sometimes, worried, and he knows she thinks it is because they are yet to have a child.

It is not.

Arthur’s kingdom prospers. Soon, all of Albion is his, magic slowly becomes common and Merlin smiles softly, pleased.

He feels sick.

*

Arthur tries so hard to be a good man. Merlin thinks (for himself) that he already is.

_He used to be._

_  
_

**2.**

**  
**

He goes alone. It requires a lot of maneuvering on his part. It is hard for him to go anywhere without Merlin knowing about it.

Kilgarrah lands in front of him. “King Arthur.”  
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks without preamble.    
“...Not like this.”  
“The end is the same.”  
“Not quite. It was never supposed to ruin you.”  
“I’m not ruined.” He says but his words weight like lies. Heavy and hard to get out when one is not used to them.  
“You don’t know what you could have been.”

 _I do_ , Arthur thinks as he remembers that there used to be a time when he could feel tendrils of ... _something_ reaching out to him. There’s only a void now, heavy and sharp, in the place of what he _should_ have been. “Why do you care, anyway? Magic is allowed, no one is hunted. You are free.”

“Coins are supposed to have two sides.”  
“What is that supposed to mean?”

The Great Dragon doesn’t answer. Arthur watches him fly away.

*

Merlin stops a witch from killing him. She lost a daughter in the Purge. She didn’t care that it happened long ago, that he is not Uther. She waited a long time for her revenge.

Arthur wishes, guiltily, that he was more like his father. That he could drown them, burn them all. He wishes that he didn’t make a promise to himself, after he had led a raid to a druid camp when he was young, to never do something like that again. He wishes he was a kind of man who breaks his promises.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asks worriedly, looking him over for injuries.  
  
He nods in response, not trusting his voice.  
  
 _Burn_ , he thinks savagely and that night dreams of fire, wondrous fire, cleansing them all.

*

His knights do their best not to leave him alone with Merlin.  
He asks Percival why.  
“You are different when he is around, Sire.” _We don’t like it._  
“Different how?”  
“You look like you are on a battlefield.” Leon answers hesitantly.  
“Merlin was a troubled but good-hearted, and all around nice guy when I met him.” Gwaine says.  
“...”  
“He is loyal to you.” The words should have the air of finality to them but they don’t.  
 _He and I have different views on loyalty._ Arthur doesn’t say, but nonetheless Gwaine is looking at him knowingly.

“What did he do?” Gwaine asks.

“Do?”

“To shatter your trust in him this much.”

He wants to get defensive. He is the King, he doesn’t have to answer. Some would say he shouldn’t have been questioned at all, but Merlin is not the only one who has saved his life and who bled for him. “He took my choice away from me once. He might do it again. He might be doing it again.”

“Might be? Wouldn’t you know?”

“I didn’t before.”

*

“Merlin would have been better off if he had never met you.”  
Gaius freezes. “Sire?”  
Arthur knows that he is being cruel. “I’ve known you my entire life. I recognize your influence.”  
“Influence?”  
“You should have burned with all the others.” Arthur doesn’t think he has ever seen Gaius scared of him before.  
“I don’t understand-“  
“I miss the old Merlin. He lied to me back then as well but at least he didn’t want to lie to me. He doesn’t think there is anything wrong with doing it now.”  
“Merlin doesn’t-“  
“I met Hunith, Gaius. He didn’t learn that from her. He didn’t learn it from me either.”  
“...”  
“If you had burned then, maybe I wouldn’t wish so bad to burn _him_ now.”

Gaius pales and it bring vicious satisfaction to Arthur.

A gasp makes him turn around. Gwen is looking at him as if she has never seen him before. The Arthur she married never would have said something like this.

“Arthur...”  
“Guinevere.”  
“Merlin is you best friend.”  
“Merlin thinks he is my best friend.”  
“But...”  
“But _nothing_. You will not say a word of this to Merlin; either one of you. I think it’s time for _me_ to keep secrets from _him_.”

 

**3.**

**  
**

Druids come to Camelot, asking for land to call their home. They look at Arthur but their bodies are turned to Merlin, ever so slightly. A lesser man would not notice.

Arthur is not a lesser man.

He gives them their damn land.

The trees there wither shortly after and the druids come back, not saying why. Their skin is sickly pale and their eyes are sunken. Merlin expresses his worry but gets only a tired smile in response.

“King Arthur.” Iseldir says and Arthur notices the difference immediately. They are speaking to _him_ now, unlike the last time.

When the druids go back, their trees are healthy.

Arthur is both the son and the father of Albion and sometimes, when alone, he kisses the ground and his tears spill into grass. Arthur doesn’t have magic, despite being born by it, so he can’t feel his land reach out to him, not like the druids can.

Albion knows its King, and it rises and falls with him.

*

“Do not speak of this to anyone.” Arthur orders.

 “They won’t.” Merlin says and his eyes flash gold.

 _“What did you do?!”_ Arthur thunders when the door closes behind the last noble.

“What had to be done. They can’t speak of today’s meeting to anyone.”

  
 _can’t_

“You-“ He starts and rage swallows his words. “Never again, Merlin.” He speaks finally. “In my name. _Never. Again_.”  
  
“I didn’t hurt them.” Merlin says, his brows furrowing in confusion.  
  
“ _Mer_ lin!”   
  
“...Fine.”

But it isn’t fine and Merlin doesn’t understand and he doesn’t stop.

*

“Arthur, is something wrong?”  
“Oh, you noticed?”  
Merlin looks at him, hesitantly. “What is wrong?”  
“...”  
“Arthur...” For a moment Arthur sees _Merlin_ , the old one, with big smiles and bigger heart; Merlin who ached with the desire to confide in him, who waited in front of the door for hours while Arthur chose his quest, who helped him put on his armor and sharpened his sword and didn’t let him kill Uther.

It doesn’t last long. The old Merlin would have needled him until he came clean. This Merlin has a gleam in his eyes which says he would not push but would go behind his back and try to find out some other way what was going on.

Something in Arthur twists painfully at the loss.

*

Hunith goes deathly pale at the sight of him. “Is Merlin-”  
“No, Hunith, no, he is fine. _He is fine.”_  
She sags with relief. “When I saw you, Sire, I thought...I know he is supposed to be at the north border...I thought...”  
“I am sorry.  I did not mean to alarm you. Merlin is fine. I came to speak with you.”  
Her gaze turns sharp. “It is strange, your highness, to see you without Merlin.”

She sits carefully and waits for him to come to her. She reminds him so strongly of Merlin in that moment that he can’t stop the smile, despite the bitterness. He reveals more than he intends to because Hunith grows concerned.

“Arthur?” She asks, taking one of his hands in hers.  
“...He won’t listen to me.” He falters, not sure how to explain and she waits him out patiently, even though she must feel anything but. “I am not sure when it started. It was gradual, his darkness...”  
“..”  
“He...he believes he knows best, always, and refuses to listen when I try to tell him that he may not. He does what he wants. I learned to trust him, years ago, but he never learned to trust me.”  
“...Do you trust him still?”  
“I know he will do what he thinks is right.”  
“I see.”  
“I don’t think you do, Hunith.” He says, and now it is _he_ who holds _her_ hand. “He was never one for discretion or appearances.” He meets her eyes, and it is her King and not Arthur she sees. “ _People see.”_ She tries to jerk her hand free but he doesn’t let go. “I am a king, Hunith. _I am his King.”_  
His voice is terrible and she shivers at the sound of it.  
“I will not be a prisoner in my own land.”  
“Sire-“  
“I owe him this. To try-“  
“What will you do?”  
“He might listen to you, his mother.”  
“And if he doesn’t?”  
“I can’t have him killed or imprisoned. I doubt there is a dungeon that can hold him, and the ramifications... I must think of my kingdom.”  
“But you _want_ to.” She says, dismayed.  
“He did things that he found justified, things I won’t forgive.”  
“He is my child.” She says desperately, tugging at his hand. “ _My child._ A good boy, a good man.”  
“Come to Camelot and see for yourself.” He says, almost gently, and leaves.

*

When Hunith comes to Camelot, her boy smiles wide at her and hugs her and she cannot see that of which Arthur spoke.

She tells him this, on the day she leaves.

“Goodbye, Hunith.” He responds softly and something in his voice reminds her of the day he came to her and doubt blooms in her mind, but then she remembers Merlin of the last few days and it dies.

“Arthur,” She tries and sees him turn untouchable in a moment. The suddenness of it makes her falter and the words get stuck in her throat.

_have you considered that you may be wrong?_

*

“I’m taking care of it.”  
“Have you told Arthur?”  
“I have it handled, Gaius.”  
“..”  
“Anyway, tomorrow I-“  
“Merlin.” Gaius interrupts. “You have to stop doing this.”  
“Doing what?”  
Merlin sounds so earnestly confused that Gaius is unsure how to continue. “You and Arthur...”  
“What about us, Gaius? Arthur and I are fine.”  
“...You are not fine, Merlin.”  
“What are you talking about?” And for the first time there was something uncertain in Merlin’s voice.

Gaius was ordered by his king not to say anything-

_he has already said too much, but Gaius was used to circumventing orders_

-and he dares not disobey. No one has ever seen Arthur enraged yet and Gaius hopes they never do.

Arthur’s rage would transcend Uther’s. Gaius doesn’t need to see it to know that the land may never recover.

Merlin waits but Gaius doesn’t speak. He dies soon after, of old age, and it becomes just another secret of many that he takes with himself to the grave.

_  
_

**4.**

“He saved your life many times.”  
“I know, Guinevere. I know.”  
“...You hold that against him?”  
“No.”  
“..”  
“Let’s not talk about Merlin.“  
“I don’t understand what happened to the two of you. What happened to _you_?“  
“Me? The question is what happened to _him_!“  
“I know he has changed, that sometimes he does questionable things but-“  
“No!“

Gwen flinches away from him and his anger abates. She wrings her hands and keeps her head down. Sometimes she reverts to the servant she was. It makes him uncomfortable that her subservience calms him down. He never meant to do this to Gwen. “Most of those questionable things he does are unnecessary.“ He explains. “They are easier.“ He allowes. “I don’t know when Merlin decided to do things the easier way.“  
  
“Easier doesn’t necessarily means wrong.“  
“...I meant to go to war yesterday.”  
”What?”  
“I was never going to sign that treaty.”  
“..”  
“I did.”  
“So you changed your mind.”  
“Merlin said he would not participate in that war.”  
“He has the right to refuse.”  
“Like my knights do?”  
“..”  
“When did Merlin become King and I his sword?”  
“...I’m sure he had his reasons.”  
“And you think I didn’t? You think I want to go to war? That I want death and bloodshed?”

“I’m sure you don’t, Arthur.” She says. Arthur knows she didn’t mean to sound hesitant, but she did and the pain it caused him stole his words.

*

Power swirls around Merlin and the strength of it makes even mortals notice it. Sometime, Arthur thinks that he could reach out, take a strand of it-

_take it all_

-and direct it as he wishes, that Merlin wouldn’t stop him, would get more just so he would have more to offer.

But then something in Merlin’s eyes sharpens and Arthur’s fingers burn and there is not a single mark on them.

Arthur is being judged.

Merlin’s eyes soften and he does as Arthur asks. Arthur remembers that it was not always like this and he wonders when was the first time he was judged and found lacking; when the reason for Merlin’s lack of trust stopped being fear and became Arthur’s unworthiness. 

*

Gareth, the court physician, falls silent.

His Queen touches his beard softly, her eyes sad. He kisses the palm of her hand.

The yearning is so great he thinks he can drown in it if he is not careful. For the first time he truly understands how his father could go to such lengths to get a child.  

He is grateful, in a twisted way, that it is Merlin who holds the power over Life and Death. If it were anyone else, he might have been tempted to ask.

He will not have a child born of Merlin’s magic. _He. Will. Not._

*

In private, people with magic refer to them as the Great Emrys and his king, and they never say that in front of him but some of them are less cautious than the others and he hears. And the words are damning but the tone is even worse and Arthur wonders when he became a pet and stopped being a King.

His resentment grows and Kilgarrah looks at him sadly. 

“Was I ever a King?” He asks, because somewhere along the line the Dragon became to him what Merlin used to be.

_Not quite. It will never-_

“You _are_ a King.” Kilgarrah says full of conviction and something else that may or may not be urgency. “One of the greatest Kings the world will ever see.” There are untold futures the dragon sees and some are far more devastating than the others. The price of Albion is great in each and every one of them, but not always the same. In some, the King stumbles and falls and Albion ends in ruins far too quickly. If words will prevent that future, Kilgarrah will say them.

Arthur hears the terrible knowledge in dragon’s voice. The words hit him hard. He knows them, has heard them before, from Merlin. He believes them more now. He feels only sadness when he realizes why.

_Kilgarrah does many things but he doesn’t outright lie._

“There are no happy endings for kings.” He says and Kilgarrah doesn’t tell him, out of kindness, that there are, for some, and that he could have been one of them.

 

**5.**

**  
**

He is not power hungry. He never was. If giving up power would mean that his people will prosper he would give it all.

But he can feel the power in the strength and speed of his limbs, the beat of his heart, the sharpness of his mind, in the trust of his people. Not those with magic. They are not his, they are Merlin’s and he can only wish they were his. He wouldn’t steer them wrong. But most of them don’t care who _he_ is as long as he has his father’s blood. It doesn’t matter that magic gave him his life when his mother couldn’t, that magic gave him to _them_.

They follow Emrys and Emrys...follows him? It should be enough.

_It isn’t._

*

Perhaps he is too proud.

*

Morgana laughs at him when she sees him. Her voice echoes strangely with a future he can’t see but can feel deep in his bones, and he feels his eyes prickle.   




Mordred is standing next to her, looking like a demon, all in black, a twisted smile on his face and eyes alight with glee, impossibly blue.

Next to him, Merlin hisses in rage, and the sky above them darkens.

“Oh, Merlin, you think you can save him, don’t you?”  
Magic crackles in the air threateningly but Morgana pays it no heed.  
“Still haven’t realized you’ve already lost him.” She sighs long-sufferingly before she and Mordred disappear in a swirl of magic.

Merlin turns towards him, frantic, but he finds no wound, no trace of malicious magic on Arthur. He stands there, confused, not understanding Morgana’s words.

Arthur wills Merlin to look him in the eyes, to see the look on his face and realize that Arthur _does_. But Merlin just looks around, stretches his magic far and searches for a trap.

“Merlin...” Arthur tries and Merlin looks at him but still remains blind.  
“What? You see something?” Arthur shakes his head no, and Merlin calls Gregor, one of Camelot’s warlocks. Gregor comes quickly, hero worship in his eyes as he looks at Merlin. “Did they do any magic before they left? On Arthur?”  
“No, nothing I saw.” He replies and Merlin turns back to scanning the surroundings.  
“Your Majesty.” Gregor says to Arthur deferentially after Merlin says nothing else and Arthur nods, dismissing him.     
“I hoped he had seen something I missed.” Merlin says and sighs. “Still, it’s good we have more warlocks on our side. Next time he might see something I don’t.”

Arthur remains silent as he watches Gregor’s retreat and says nothing of the contempt in the warlock’s eyes when he addressed Arthur. Even if he had seen something, Arthur doubts Gregor would have said anything.

Gregor disappears from view and in the corner of his eye, Arthur sees Percival and Elyan relax.

*

Merlin doesn’t want to go to Kilgarrah, the dragon is crafty but he is also wise, and Merlin feels like he has no choice. He feels an urgency he can’t explain.

“It has been a while since you called me, warlock.”  
“Something is going on with Arthur.”  
“Oh?”  
“He’s- I don’t know! Something is wrong!”  
“Have you tried asking him?” The dragon asks like he already knows the answer.  
“Yes, but he didn’t-” Merlin stops and looks at Kilgarrah carefully. “You know what is wrong.” He says with utter conviction. “Tell me.”

“You ignored me when I called you, for years, so I stopped calling.” He says instead. “You should have come.”  
Merlin glares.  
“Try speaking with Arthur again.”

Merlin has no time for advices, no matter how well meaning. The sense of urgency increases every minute and Merlin’s patience runs thin.

 _“Tell me.”_ He demands in the language of the dragons and Kilgarrah has no choice. He refuses to look at Merlin as the words are torn from him-

_secrets of a King_

-and later when Merlin tries to deny what his actions had just confirmed. Nor does he look when he hears Merlin rush back to the castle.

His wings feel too heavy to fly so he lies down and closes his eyes and ignores the futures flashing before his eyes.

*

Merlin runs to the King’s chambers and the guards don’t stop him from barging in-

_They twitch and he realizes in one devastating moment between laying his hand on the doors and pushing them open, that they want to_

\- wide eyed and pale, as the grey in his hair, and Arthur looks at him for a moment before he turns his head the other way.


End file.
